


Tales of A Careless Man's Careful Daughter

by Jules1980



Category: Cobra Kai, Karate Kid
Genre: Expanded Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:14:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23720650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jules1980/pseuds/Jules1980
Summary: Inspired by InvisibleObserver13's Tales of Never Knew, all the little headcanons, and stories of the Becca verse that won't make it into a regular story.  This spans 4 generations of family and multiple characters and relationships.  Enjoy!
Relationships: John Kreese/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 7
Collections: Becca-Verse Collection





	1. Strike First (John and Becca)

**Author's Note:**

> Becca's first day of school doesn't go as planned.

"Come on, Princess," John said, knocking on her bedroom door. "You don't want to be late for your first day of school."

"I don't want to go to school," Becca replied, opening the door.

"I don't want to go to work either, but sometimes you have to do things that you don't want to. Besides, it has to be more fun than hanging out with Mrs. Abercrombie and her kids again," he said, ruffling her hair. "I made us breakfast."

She sighed heavily and walked to the kitchen with her head down, dragging her feet. She did perk up a bit, seeing that he'd made eggs, bacon, and biscuits for breakfast instead of just the cold cereal they'd been having for breakfast since Cara had been deployed. Not that he minded cooking he just had to work on his time management skills. It was the first time Cara had been deployed alone since they'd been married and the first time he'd had to take care of Becca alone. He hadn't yet gotten the hang of getting them both ready and out the door on time in the mornings.

"But I don't need to go to school," she pouted. "Mama teaches me everything I need to know. I can already read and count to a hundred. Even backward." 

"Mama says you have to go to school."

"Why?"

"So you can grow up to be whatever you want to be and not have to be a soldier or a nurse if you don't want to," he replied.

"But I don't have to go to school to be what I want to be," she said.

"And what is that?"

"A real Princess."

"Just how do you plan on doing that? We're not royalty and I'm pretty sure that Mama and I don't know any Princes for you to marry," he chuckled.

She seemed to think the question over as she ate her eggs.

"Uncle Terry probably knows a prince or a king," she answered, finally. "Or  Grandpa, maybe. He knows everybody."

John laughed, "Well, just in case that plan falls through, you have to go to school. Go brush your hair and teeth. We have to leave soon."

"Yes, sir."

He cleared the table and grabbed his own gear for the day while he waited.

Soon they were walking towards the Fort's elementary school, Becca hopping and skipping more than walking.

* * *

At the school, they quickly located her classroom.

"Hi, Honey, what's your name?' the teacher asked, leaning down to her level.

She was pretty, with dark hair and clear blue eyes and she seemed nice enough but Becca suddenly felt shy. She held tightly to her Dad's hand and ducked behind him.

Used to shy students, her teacher wasn't put off. Glancing up at the name on John's uniform shirt.

"Kreese. I bet you're Rebecca Anne. That's a very pretty name. My most favorite book character is named Rebecca. 'Rebecca of SunnyBrook Farm.' Have you ever heard of that book?"

"My mama read it to me," Becca mumbled.

"Well, sounds like your mommy has good taste. Would you like to find your desk, Rebecca?"

"She likes to be called Becca," John said, knowing Becca would never dream of correcting an adult.

"That's good to know. We can certainly do that," the teacher smiled again. She held out her hand. "Do you want to find your desk, Becca?"

She looked up at the teacher's hand then back up at John.

"Oh, don't worry. Your Dad can come with you for a while. I'm Miss Brandon, by the way."

Becca let the teacher take her hand but still held tight to John with the other. She looked around the room. All the other kids were there with their mothers. There were one or two other Dads there too but she was the only one there with just her daddy. She slipped her backpack off her shoulders and hung it on the back of her chair.

Miss Brandon picked up a packet of papers, handing them to John, "These are just some forms for the office. Things like medical history, allergies, emergency contacts, things like that. If you could just have her mother fill them out and slip them in her backpack for tomorrow..,"

"Her mother is deployed. She won't be home until December," he answered, curtly.

"I.., I'm so sorry, I just assumed," she stammered.

"We're both active duty. Her mother is a nurse. She's on a temporary duty assignment. I'm sure Becca and I can get these done just fine, but if it makes you feel better I can double-check it with my wife when she calls," he joked. It was an easy assumption and it wouldn't help to antagonize the teacher on Becca's first day.

"Sorry again and thank you," she smiled, leaving them to greet another student.

"Daddy, do I have to stay here? What if Mama calls while I'm gone?" Becca asked.

"Yes, Princess, you have to stay, and Mama knows that you have to be at school and I have to be on duty today, so she isn't going to call while we're not home," he answered. She was quiet for a moment, picking at a stray thread on her dress. Mama had bought it for her before she had to leave. It was blue with a sun on one sleeve and a rainbow on the other. Mama was going to braid her hair but the best she or Daddy could do was a ponytail.

"Daddy? Why does mama have to work? Why can't she stay at home with me like other mamas?"

John sighed as he looked around the room. He hadn't noticed the distinct lack of fathers in the room until now but apparently Becca had. He knelt down beside her desks so they were on the same level. 

"Princess, we've talked about this. Mama has a very important job..."

"She helps soldiers who are hurt or sick," she interrupted. "I know."

"That's right," he agreed. "And if she didn't have that job, you probably wouldn't have Uncle Terry to find a prince for you to marry. Or Uncle Mikey or even me, and lots of other little girls and boys wouldn't have their daddies and uncles and even mommies, either. That's why her job is so important and why she has to go away sometimes just like I have to..,"

"And I have to be a brave little soldier and not be selfish when you do," she interrupted again, spouting the line he'd often heard Libby Sullivan tell whatever grandchildren were dealing with a deployment. The line that never failed to make Cara roll her eyes.

“No," he shook his head. "You don't have to be a brave little soldier. You don't have to be any kind of soldier but being a sad, miserable little girl isn't any more fun either."

She thought about what he had said. "You promise mama isn't going to call us while I'm at school?"

“I promise."

"Okay," she smiled again, "I guess I can stay for today."

"Thank you," he laughed, kissing her forehead.

"You can go to work now, Daddy, I'll be okay," she replied.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, sir," she assured him.

"You know what to do after school?"

She nodded, "Janelle Sims is going to walk me to Mrs. Abercrombie's and I'm to stay there until you pick me up at dinnertime. Mind my manners and do what she tells me too," she replied.

"Right," he agreed again. "And since today is a special day, we can even go to Dairy Queen for dinner. What do you think? It was mama's idea before you ask."

She nodded so vigorously her ponytail bounced up and down. That was her favorite treat. She hugged him tightly, "I love you, Daddy!"

“Love you, too, Princess." He stared at her for a minute. How was it possible that she was already starting school? He had missed so much in her life already, he was happy he hadn't had to miss this milestone too. He kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you this evening.”

* * *

Well, that was the plan anyway. 

Becca liked school, at least so far. A little girl named Sylvie sat next to her and they had eaten their lunches together and had played hopscotch at recess. Sylvie had two older brothers and one little sister. Her dad was a tank mechanic.

After recess, Miss Brandon had them all draw and color a picture of their family. She had drawn her family carefully. She was wearing her princess gown Uncle Terry had sent her from England. It was pink and sparkly and Miss Brandon had a set of glitter crayons and she let Becca use the pink one to get it just right. Her Daddy was in his uniform, though she couldn't make his beret look right, with his pet snake curling up his arm. She had also added a dog, even though they didn't have a dog yet but she really wanted one so that counted, right?

Finally, she drew her mom. She made her mom's medical bag too small and the red cross was more of a blob but it didn't matter. Mama would know  what it was. She was putting the finishing touches on her picture when the boy sitting on her left, Travis, grabbed her paper and held it up.

"Look at this, Miss Brandon," he declared. "Becca messed up. She drew her mommy as a soldier."

"Because she is a soldier," Becca snapped. She grabbed the paper, but he didn't let go. "She's a Lieutenant!"

"Mom's can't be Soldiers. Not really. Going to war is man's work."

"Well, my mama went to war, and she says girls can do anything boys can do!" Becca shouted, getting to her feet, facing off with him. She jerked her paper away as hard as she could. It ripped in half. She looked at the destroyed picture and narrowed her eyes, but Travis wasn't done yet.

"Well, my daddy says all the women who went to the war were...," Then he said a very bad word.

She didn't know what it meant but she knew it was very bad because everyone in the room gasped and when Uncle Nick had called her mama that word once Daddy had given him a bloody nose and a fat lip. Before she thought better of the idea, she balled up her fist and punched, catching Travis in the left eye.

“Rebecca! Travis! Stop this right now!" Miss Brandon was by their side grabbing both by the arm. "We're going to the principal's  office right now!"

* * *

Becca sat on her hands in the Principal’s office. Miss Brandon had gotten Travis some ice, then returned to their classroom to take care of the other kids. 

Travis’s mother arrived first and made a huge deal of checking his eye.

When her Daddy arrived, she ran to him and hugged him. “I’m not sorry,” she declared. “He deserved it. He said something bad about Mama!”

Before John could ask her what had happened, they were all whisked in to see the principal.

The principal was a lady with a nice smile and best of all she was wearing a uniform! She was a soldier! She would understand.

“Now, what happened?” The Principal, who Becca found out was Major Smith, asked.

“She hit me,” Travis cried. 

“He said girls couldn’t be soldiers and he made me rip the picture of my family,” she shot back.

“Well, they can’t. My daddy says so!”

“Okay. Let’s start over. Rebecca, did you hit Travis?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” she replied, holding her chin up high. “He made me rip my picture and he called my Mama a bad word, so I hit him.”

“Travis, is this true?”

“No, I mean, yes, I mean, part of it is,” he answered. “She made her Mama a soldier and I just told her that girls can’t be soldiers and my Daddy says that all the girls who went to the war were whores.”

“Travis! You can’t use that word,” his mother scolded. "It's a very bad word!"

"It is?"

She nodded.

"Oh."

John, however, did not tell Becca that she couldn’t hit Travis for using that word.

“Well, girls can certainly be soldiers, Travis,” Major Smith replied. “I am a soldier. Rebecca’s mother is a soldier. There are lots of roles in the Army and men can’t fill them all and you cannot use that language at school and I would advise you not to use it at all. Rebecca, it doesn’t matter what someone else does or says, you can’t hit them unless you are in danger. Is that clear?”   


“Yes ma’am,” they both replied.

“Good. Now, you have to go home for now, but come back tomorrow ready to try again and be friends.”   


* * *

“Daddy, am I in trouble?” Becca asked as they left the school.

He picked her up so he could look her in the eyes. “No. You were defending your Mama. I wouldn't ever punish you for that. But, your principal is right. You can’t just hit people at school. You have to let the teacher handle things, okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I have to go back on duty, but Mrs. Abercrombie is going to watch you early.”

She nodded. The school day was almost over anyway.

“Can we still go to Dairy Queen?” she asked, curiously.

“Sure,” he laughed. “We may even have time to call Mama before I drop you off.”

\-----

  
  



	2. Have You Ever Noticed That Too?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mikey finds an unlikely ally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Homophobic slurs used to hurt someone. Not the views of the writer.
> 
> ****Maybe part of a larger work later.****

Mikey was sitting at Cara’s kitchen table, drinking a cup of coffee, heavily laced with Jameson. It might have actually been more Jameson than coffee if he was being honest. He couldn’t believe Terry had invited him to Hawaii. Two guys don’t just up and go to Hawaii alone together, do they? 

He shook his head. No. His parents had gone to Hawaii for their honeymoon. So had Nick and Trixie. He could only imagine what his brothers would say if he announced that he was going to go there with Terry. A hunting or fishing trip, sure. He could explain that, but not a trip to a romantic tropical island. Still, it sounded fantastic. Actually anywhere away from the Army and well-meaning family sounded fantastic. So far only Cara and John had given him any space at all. His brothers had been all about ‘get over it, suck it up’, and while his parents seemed to understand that was easier said than done, his mother had decided the best way to keep him from brooding too much was to keep him ridiculously busy. The three weeks he’d spent in Virginia around all of them, he hadn’t had to drink himself to sleep. He was too exhausted from chores, visits, shopping, whatever else his mother took into her head for them to do that day. His parents meant well, but his brothers were just dicks. 

He swirled the coffee around in his cup, glad that the kids were happily occupied with their toys from Grandma and Grandpa, and had let the house settle down to a dull hum. He wasn’t sure how Cara and John could stand it. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. John seemed to be handling it the same way he was, with lots of Jameson. But that might have been due more to the newly appointed General than the noise. 

“Hey, Pal,” Nick announced, coming into the kitchen followed closely by Luke. “Why’re you hiding in here?”

“It’s quiet,” he answered. “Or it was.”

“Ooohh, we’re so insulted,” Luke retorted. “No really, what are you hiding from? You know if you hide from Mom, you’re supposed to invite the rest of us.”

“Thought we’d outgrown that.”

“No. Word to the wise, she still eavesdrops and has spies,” Nick said. “You’re going back with them for the rest of your leave, aren’t you?”

He glanced out at the back porch where John and Terry were smoking and sighed. There was no way he could explain the trip that Nick and Luke wouldn’t assume things. “Yeah, probably.”

“You could go visit Deirdre,” he suggested. “Where is she at now?”

“Los Angeles.”

“She’s still trying to be a model?” 

“She is a model,” he answered. “You’ve seen her pictures.”

“Not unless she’s been in a skin magazine,” Luke laughed. “And I don’t think you’d be telling us about that.”

“Like he would know about that,” Nick smirked. 

“Yeah, whatever,” Mikey rolled his eyes. He knew where this was going. He stood up to go, but Nick grabbed his arm.

“Sit down, Mickey. We’re just busting your balls, we don’t mean anything,” he said. “Have you got your new duty station?”

Mikey shook his head. “There is some talk about sending me out west to train some Air Force pilots.”   


“Air Force is a bunch of pussies,” Luke replied.

“Yeah, well, that’s why we’re training them,” he retorted. 

“That’s right.” They laughed, genuinely and Nick patted him on the back. 

“What’s up?” John asked as he and Terry came back inside. He knew if Cara’s twin brothers were in the same room with any other guy usually ended up with punches being thrown. He’d been the one throwing them a time or two. Nick and Luke just seemed to have those personalities.

“Little brother was saying he’s headed out west to teach some Air Force pussies how to fly,” Luke replied.

“Really? You got your station?” John asked. 

“Not officially,” Mikey answered. “Just a possibility.”

“Where to?” Terry asked.

“Possibly Colorado, or Beale Air Force Base,” he replied.

“That’s in California, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded. “But it’s just one of the places they’re talking about. YOu know how it is. They’ll tell me with like six hours to be on a base a five and half hour drive away.”

“Well, if you end up in California, let me know,” Terry replied. “We’ll meet up and get drunk or something.”

“Like Dad’s going to let happen,” Nick scoffed. “His baby boy just got home from war. You’ll be lucky to get further away than Maryland. And no way is he going to let a Sullivan be associated with the Air Force pussies.”

“Yeah, I think Dad would have a heart attack,” Luke agreed, laughing. 

Soon the talk of Army superiority to other branches of the military turned to which branch had more gay servicemen. And then just that topic in general.

Terry watched the scene curiously. Not that he’d ever say it, but he’d wondered about Mikey’s sexuality a few times before but it was just a feeling. He’d never seen any proof. But watching him sitting between his brothers who seemed to be fighting to outdo each other with the slurs, Mikey seemed to be drawing into himself. His head was down, and he had his arms wrapped himself. He was slinking down in the seat as if trying not to draw any attention towards him as his brothers were firing off shots.

Mikey hated this. He hated when they did this. He had no way out. Short of joining in, he had no defenses. Anything else he said would be seen as confirming their taunts. They would never say his name or call him out directly, Dad wouldn’t let them, but he knew this conversation was for his benefit.

“Hey,” John said when it didn’t seem like they were stopping. “Why don’t you shut that fucking shit up?”

Luke smirked as he looked up. “I didn’t know you agree with having  _ that kind  _ in the Army, John.”

“Whether I do or I don't doesn't matter. I don’t want my daughter hearing that shit,” he shot back. As if on cue, Cara came in with Becca in her arms. It might have very well been on cue. If she’d heard them, she’d have shut them down any way she could.

“Hey, Princess,” he said. 

“Mommy says I have to go to bed. But I’m not tired,” she reported, yawning before she could get the words out.

“You sure about that?” John asked.

“Maybe I’m a little tired,” she agreed. “Can you  _ and Mommy _ tuck me in?”

“Sure,” he nodded. “Tell your Uncles goodnight.”

She scrambled down from Cara’s arm and ran over to hug Mikey. “You’ll be here tomorrow?” 

“I’ll be here,” he replied, hugging her back. She’d taken to asking him that every night after finding out he was just visiting, not staying.

“Good. I love you.”

“Love you, too, Princess,” he replied, kissing her head. 

She went to Terry and held her arms up. “Pick me up, Uncle Terry.”

He lifted her up and she hugged him tightly. “Will _ you _ be here tomorrow?”

“I’ll come to see you again before I leave town,” he replied. 

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

“I love you, too,” she grinned.

“Goodnight, Princess,” he chuckled, hugging her again before handing her off to John to go upstairs.

She didn’t say goodnight to Nick or Luke and neither parent pushed her to do so.

Once they were upstairs, the twins looked like they were going to start up again, seeing an ally in Terry.

“You live in California, don’t you, Silver?” Nick asked.

“I live in Los Angeles,” he answered. 

“Thought so.”

“Isn’t California queer central now?” Luke laughed. “I’m sure you know some, huh? All those pretty boy actors.”

Terry took a sip of his drink and paused as if considering what to say. “I’m not sure about central. I haven’t taken any polls. I’m sure I do know some, though. I don’t have names if that’s what you’re wanting. I don’t ask. It’s been my observation that the men who are overly interested in which men screw other men, you know, the ones who talk about it constantly and swear how gross it is, are usually just looking for action themselves. Have you ever noticed that, too?” He looked up from his glass and smirked.

“Dick,” Luke muttered as they stood up, clearly getting his hidden jab.

Terry saw Mikey’s lips turn up in a smile as his brothers scrambled out the room. Figures they wouldn’t try to fight him. Cowards.

Mikey sat up straighter, feeling like he could breathe again. He looked up at Terry and smiled. 

“When do we leave for Hawaii?”


	3. Letters from Home part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set during the war, John, Terry, and Mikey get letters from their sweethearts back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Outdated attitudes towards homosexuality expressed. They are not the attitudes of the author.

_Dearest Johnny,_

_Please believe me when I say that I never wanted to hurt you and I know what a horrible person I am, but sometimes circumstantes happen in life that we can't control. As much as I love you, I now find myself in such a predicament. There ain’t no easy way to say this but I've fallen in love with some­one else. You know how Pastor Thompson passed away last spring? Well, his replacement, Pastor Ross and his family moved in next door to Ma and me. He has a son our age. When they first moved in, he was away at the University of Tennessee. He's gonna be a lawyer. When he came home for the summer, the Pastor asked me if I'd show him around town and we started spending time together. I never meant for this to happen, but well he was here and you are so far away and I didn't even realize how lonely I was until he was paying attention to me. I don't know no other way to say this but straight out: we fell in love. I'm pregnant and we're getting married and moving to Memphis so Lenny can go to law school. I’m so sorry, Johnny, but Lenny really is a great guy. Maybe when you get home you can visit us in Memphis. Be safe, be careful, and come home, my love._

_Love,_

_Betsy_

_P.S. Please don’t write to me again. Lenny says it is disrespectful to him for me to keep writing to you, even now you know that I'm not waiting for you, so this is going to have to be our last letter._

John read the last line and scoffed. Betsy really was full of herself. She had some nerve even thinking that he'd want to write to her again. He's thousands of miles away from home, just trying to get through another day without him or any of his platoon getting shot and she is not only back home playing house with the Pastor's son, but then to act like he was going to be so heartbroken that he was going to be wasting his time writing her every day to beg her to reconsider.

She was knocked up! Even if he did want to beg her to reconsider it was way past the point of reconsidering. He wadded up the letter, then straightened it out again.

So, maybe he wasn't exactly surprised. He'd always known that she was only with him because she thought he was going to be some big music star and leave Jones Ferry. Because getting twenty bucks a night to sing in some rundown bar on the edge of Nashville was definitely the path to stardom. Twenty dollars he had to split with Trent, Timmy, and the two other guys in their band. It was barely enough to pay for gas and breakfast at Ruby's after a whole weekend. He was honestly surprised she'd held out this long before finding a new ride out of town.

"Trouble at home, Captain?" Private Silver asked, looking up from his own mail.

He glared at the younger man, "Why don't you mind your own damn business for once, Silver?"

"Fuck you, too, then," he replied with a shrug, then went back to his own letter.

John shook his head, the kid hadn't deserved that. Worse, it had caught the attention of their

Major, and now he was headed their way. Not that the Major was a bad guy. He was, however, a

college graduate officer who knew little of what actually went on in the field.

"Eyes on your own paper, Private," he said, nudging Silver's boot lightly. He could have punished him for speaking so disrespectfully to a superior officer but he didn't mean any harm and the Cobra Kai unit wasn't that strict on such protocols. He sat down beside John. "Well, since he brought it up, bad news from home?"

John rolled his eyes and handed over his letter. 

The Major scanned the first few lines and sighed, handing it back. "I'm sorry, son. I wish I had something better to tell you, but all I can say is that it happens. If it makes you feel better, in a few years, you'll be out of here, stationed somewhere nice like Hawaii and she'll be stuck in Memphis,... married to a lawyer. And you can send her postcards from all the world to remind her she's stuck Memphis,..., married to a lawyer."

"Better yet," Racine spoke up. "Get KC to take a picture with you and slip that in your next letter."

"Oh, I'm not allowed to write her any more letters. It's disrespectful to her new man for her to get letters from another man," he scoffed.

"What?!" Terry looked up from his letter, having heard the words but not the sarcastic tone, "Oh, hell, no, she doesn't get to break up with you and tell you what to do! We're all going to write that bitch a letter." 

He grabbed a stationary pad and envelopes out of his footlocker. Passing them out, he laughs, "She's going to get letters from other men for a month. The sappier the better."

"Where are you from again, Captain?" Mitchell asked.

"Jones Ferry, Tennessee," he replied.

"What is there to do there?"

"Nothing," Racine laughed. "You think that if there was anything to do there, he would have joined the damn Army?"

John laughed as he watched his platoon busy writing fake love letters to his now ex-girlfriend. Yeah, getting that letter sucked and probably would suck for a while but it felt good to know they had his back, even in this.

* * *

_Dear Terry,_

_Holy Hell! YOU ARE IN THE ARMY! How the fuck did that happen? And you are actually in Vietnam?! I'm still so shocked, I just left your house in Hollywood Hills. Your sweet Margaret told me the news and gave me your address. I hope that was okay._

_Why didn't you tell me, Baby? This is such a mind fuck. You in the Army. I'm definitely going to need a picture of this. I bet you look really sexy in that uniform._

_I finally convinced my Dad that just because he is a senator from North Carolina, it doesn't mean that the whole family has to be bathed in Tar Heel blue and convinced him to let me apply to Loyola Marymount. I told him it was so I would be a shoo-in for their law school but really I just wanted to be closer to you._

_I know that what we had at school has to be over. I accept that. But I thought we could at least be friends again. I miss you. I understand why you'd want to forget anything and everything to do_

_with that horrible place, but I can't say that it doesn't hurt. I still love you, Baby. I wish you had felt like you could tell me that you had been drafted._

_I miss you so much. I don't understand though. You had early admission to Princeton and Stanford. You would have been a lock for a student deferment, why would you put your life at risk like this? If we live a thousand years, I’ll still never understand how your brain works._

_Love forever,_

_Charlie_

Terry stared at the scrolling perfect handwriting. To say that he hadn’t thought about the other young man in the year since he’d left their private boarding school to head back to California would have been a lie. He’d thought of him every day but he had been in such a bad place when he’d left school to deal with his parents’ deaths, that he was afraid to open any channels back to that place. He felt like he’d finally been lucky enough to escape that place once. He wasn’t going back. Though he did regret having to sever all the relationships he had there to feel like he was finally safe from it. Charlie, most of all. He was surprised Charlie even still wanted to talk to him, much less moved across the country to be near him.

He sighed and pressed the letter to his lips. He laid the letter on his bunk and grabbed some stationary out of his trunk to write Charlie back. He’d have to write a longer letter when he had the time to think about it, as he was due on guard duty in a few minutes. Still, he felt like he needed to send something.

_Dear Charlie,_

_I miss you too. I know that a letter doesn’t make up for disappearing like I did. I really don’t have a reasonable explanation for that, but I am sorry that I hurt you. That was never my intention. I love you too._

_As for why I am in the Army? Fuck if I know. Just to spite my asshole of a father, I guess. A new tree to jump out of and all that is the only explanation I can come up with. Yes, I know how stupid that is and God help me if I die over here, I’ll laugh at myself for being an idiot._

_Love always,_

_Terry_

He kept the envelope but threw the letter in a burn barrel near their barracks. As much as he hated to get rid of it, it wouldn’t be good if the other men found a letter like that in his things, and even keeping it with him had risks if he was injured. He mailed his letter and went to his duty spot. Night had fallen when his replacement arrived. 

“Hey, Captain.”

“Silver. Here.” John held out a cup of coffee. 

“Thanks,” he replied. “How bad is it?”

“I shouldn’t tell you before you drink it,” John smirked.

Terry chuckled softly, took a sip, then grimaced. “How can you mess up coffee? It’s hot water and coffee grounds.”

“Well, they cut out the hot water for one,” he replied. They stood in silence for a few moments, Terry waiting to be dismissed and John seeming as though something was on his mind. Finally, he cleared his throat and held out a piece of paper. “This..um…, this was on the ground near our tent.”

Terry took the paper, his heart racing, in a near panic. It was partially burned but the names were still readable and one could see not everything written but at least the main points. He wondered if he could convince his Captain that Charlie was short for Charlotte the way he had convinced his mother. But he knew better. His mother had believed that because she wanted to believe it. The Captain would not be that naive. 

“If you’re going to burn something,” John spoke again before Terry’s scattered mind could even think of any words. “Stick around and make sure it burns through. This is a war and we can’t have sensitive information falling into the wrong hands, Private.”

“Yes, sir,” he replied, shakily, still unsure of what was about to happen, when John handed him a lighter. 

“We can’t have sensitive information falling into the wrong hands, Private,” he repeated, motioning to the paper.

“Yes, sir,” he stammered, setting fire to the letter, this time waiting until it was nothing more than ashes before putting it out, scattering them across the jungle floor. He had to know what the Captain was going to do about it. “Sir, about that letter…”

“What letter?” John interrupted, looking at him pointedly, then at the ground. “Was that a letter? None of my concern what that was. But you shouldn’t start fires on duty. No telling who might spot it. Better get back to base. Get some chow and some sleep. You have first watch in the morning and I expect you here at six on the dot.”

“Yes, sir,” he replied again, so relieved he didn’t know whether to hug John or swear it would never happen again, or just run away.

“Dismissed, Private.”

“Yes, Captain. Thank you.”

John nodded curtly, then motioned to the camp behind them, signaling that as far he was concern their conversation was over, if you could ever get him to admit it took place at all.

* * *

_My Dearest Mikey,_

_I miss you so much, my love. I hope this letter finds you still in good health and one piece. Everything here in Los Angeles is wonderful. I found a lovely roommate, Laynie. She says she wants to be a model as well, but if you ask me, I think she’d rather be married to some rich man who can buy her all the clothes we model. She knows everything about every rich bachelor in Hollywood. She’s such a doll though, I know she’ll fine a great husband. In the meantime, we get to have fun playing dress up everyday._

_I love you,Darling and I can’t wait until you are home safe and sound with me._

_Love,_

_Deirdre_

Mikey read the words over again, then looked at the pictures she had sent and smiled.He knew that being a model was probably a lot of hard work but she always looked so happy and like she was having the time of her life in the pictures she often sent him. 

He pinned the pictures up by his bunk, then laid down. Deirdre really was his best girl, that part of the letters were not an act. And he did love her and he knew that she loved him. But that love was simply platonic. She was his closest friend, except perhaps, his sister Cara.

They had all been thick as thieves in high school. They were also the only people he’d ever had told that he was a homosexual and with Cara, it was only with the help of way too much whiskey and only a half-admission that they could both pretend really wasn’t real.

Because it couldn’t be real, could it? He couldn’t be himself. His parents would disown him. He’d be kicked out of the Army, or worse, and his brothers, well, they would probably kill him if their suspicions were ever proven to be true. 

He looked at the pictures again, and wished that it could be true. That he and DD were madly in love and planning to live happily ever after as soon he was home from this war. Or at the very least that they could talk honestly with each other. DD was the greatest girl and he knew if he asked, that she would marry him, but how could he do that to her or any girl? Marry them just to keep up appearances while keeping his feelings locked away. What kind of life would that be?

It didn’t matter because he couldn’t do that. He was happy with his life, for the most part. Maybe romantic love was never going to be in the cards for him, but he could be content, couldn’t he? DD was writing him letters and while not as lovers, they’d always be there for each other and tomorrow, he’d get to see Cara and maybe have a few drinks. Life could be worse, right? 


	4. Merry Christmas, John

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John learns he is a father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during the war and injuries mentioned.

You couldn’t have made it seem less like Christmas if you’d tried. It was close to eighty degrees with insects swarming all around them and not a single breeze blowing. John Kreese leaned back against a tree. His leg hurt like hell from the shrapnel he’d taken the night before. The medic had offered him a shot but that stuff didn’t do anything but make him drunk and he had to stay sharp until they could get to the chopper pick-up zone. They should have been there two hours before and now it was unlikely that they were going to make it before it was too dark for the helicopter to fly another round. The worst part was, he knew he was the one holding them up. He couldn’t move as fast and this was the third time, he’d had to stop to take a rest.

He let his head drop back and closed his eyes, thoughts of Cara drifting through his mind. He couldn’t help but wonder what she was doing for this holiday. He knew the baby was due sometime the next month so she was probably as miserable as he was, just for different reasons. He’d teased her in the last letter he’d sent that she was going to have the New Year’s Baby and get her picture in the papers. She’d written back that no way in hell was she going to have her picture in the paper minutes after having a baby. She’d order someone else to give birth first.

He chuckled, thinking about her. He opened his eyes and looked around at his platoon. Mitchell had taken a couple of rounds to his shoulder and he couldn’t let his injuries keep the other man from reaching the last Medivac out for the night. 

“Racine, Silver,” he called out to his Lieutenant and his radio operator. He motioned them over. 

“What is it, Captain?” Silver asked. 

“Silver, call base and tell them to keep the Medivac on the ground as long as possible on this last run. You’ll be there. Mitchell has to get to the hospital. He’s losing blood faster than Jones can get fluids back in him. He can’t wait overnight,” he said. “Racine, you’re going to have to take over and leave me here.”

“We ain’t doing that,” Racine declared. “We’ll make it.”

“Not with me slowing you down, you won’t,” he answered. “I can make it overnight, Mitchell can’t. You have to take everyone else and get them to the pick-up site. I’ll be fine. Leave me some supplies. I’ll rest tonight and make it to the pick-up site first thing in the morning.”

“But, Captain…,” Racine started but John interrupted him.

“It’s an order,” he barked. “Now, get ready and get them out of here.”

Racine swallowed hard, then nodded. “Yes, Captain.” He stood and walked to where the rest of the platoon were gathered. Getting some rations and water from others, he brought them and another rifle and more ammunition back to John. He paused as if he wanted to say more.

“Go now, Lieutenant,” John nodded. “You’re in charge now.”

“Cobra Kais, on your feet,” Racine commanded with one last look back at his Captain.

Silver started to stand up, but John caught his arm. “Terry,” he sighed. “If I don’t make it to the pick-up site in the morning…., make sure Cara and the baby are taken care of, okay?”

“Captain, don’t talk like that,” Terry replied, with a hint of panic in his tone.

“Promise me,” John insisted.

Terry was quiet for a moment, looking as if he was going to argue about whether John would make it, but then nodded, “You know I will.”

“Thank you. Now get out of here.”

“Yes, sir.”

* * *

He wasn’t sure if they were even out of sight when he heard someone approaching. He shifted slightly to see better in the direction the sound was coming from and lifted his rifle.

“Don’t shoot, Captain. It’s just me.”

He put his gun down and relaxed. “I gave you an order, Silver.”

“With all due respect, Captain, you gave Racine an order,” he replied as he reached him. “Then you put him in charge and he and I decided that I should come back here and stand guard with you.”

“You both decided that?”

“Well, I decided but he agreed it was a good idea,” Terry admitted.

“Well, keep guard but be quiet about it,” he grumbled. 

“Yes, sir.”

He leaned his head back again, then closed his eyes, while Silver walked a perimeter around them. He wasn’t sure if ten minutes or several hours had passed when he opened his eyes again.

“Silver!” He called out. 

“Yes, sir?” He answered from behind him.

“Help me up. It’s as hot as hell here,” he said. “Let’s try to get closer to the river before nightfall, it has to at least be cooler there.”

“You sure?” Terry asked.

John nodded. He didn’t know why but he had an overwhelming feeling that they needed to get to the river. The heat was just an excuse.

Terry helped him to his feet and they made their way to the river where they’d meet the helicopter the next morning. It was slow going and night had nearly fallen when they reached the clearing.

“Look, Captain,” Terry chuckled, pointing that the helicopter still waiting on the ground.

John smirked, “He has to be the most stubborn son of bitch alive.”

“Yep,” Terry agreed of the helicopter’s pilot. “And your kid will get half their genes from that family.”

“Don’t remind me,” he laughed.

“‘Bout time you showed up,” Mikey called out. “Enjoying a nice evening walk?”

“Shut up, Sullivan,” he grumbled.

“Get him in, we’ve got to take off,” Sullivan said to his medic, tossing his cigarette away and climbing into the cockpit to start the machine up.

“You can’t fly now,” John replied. “It’ll be night soon.”

“Oh, ye of little faith. I’m a Sullivan, I can fly anything, anytime,” he replied, slipping his helmet on. “So you just be quiet, do what the medic says, and let me handle the hard stuff.” Yes, it was stupid to fly at night. But the moon was supposed to be bright and he thought they’d have just enough visibility to get back to base, or at least to a safer area than the one they were in now. The risks of staying there far outweighed the risks of taking off this close to nightfall.

* * *

He made it. John was amazed. Mikey had actually managed to get them back to base. He was sure that even Mikey wasn’t sure how. He’d be in trouble no doubt, but he was a Sullivan so John was sure they wouldn’t be too hard on him.

A medical team had met them on landing the pad, and he was already being prepped for surgery when Mikey came inside the hospital.

“I don’t know what kind of heaven and hell my sister had to move to get this to me in less than ten days,” he held up the envelope, pointing at the December 15th postmark. “But she insisted that I get this to you today. So when you answer her, let her know I did that, but maybe leave out the part where I risked your life flying in the dark.”

“Depends on what that letter says,” he replied, reaching for it.

_ Dear Johnny, _

_ You have a daughter. She was born on December 15 at 10:30 a.m. She was early and breach, but I think she was just in a hurry to hit the ground running. She is just fine and she is so beautiful. She has your gray eyes. I’ve named her Rebecca Anne Kreese. I cannot wait until you can see her. I love her so much already and I know you will too. I want to get this in the mail today, so I must send it off now. I will write more tomorrow. _

_ I love you, _

_ Cara. _

He read the words over again. A girl. A daughter. Rebecca. He couldn’t find the words.

“Everything okay, Captain?” Terry asked as he hadn’t left his side since they’d landed.

“I have a daughter,” he said finally.

“A daughter?” Terry repeated.

John nodded and wiped at his eyes. He glanced at Mikey who was grinning. 

“Merry Christmas, John,” he said.

John had never been one to have much Christmas spirit but maybe today he could understand the sentiment. “Merry Christmas. I suppose I can keep your secrets for a little while.” He held the letter out to Silver. “Here, take care of this for me, Silver. I know I can trust you with it.”

“Yes, sir,” Terry’s eyes lit up at the compliment.

“We have to take you to the OR now, Captain,” a nurse said, motioning to two corpsmen to move the stretcher he was laying on. Then to Mikey and Terry. “It shouldn’t take long.”

“I’ll see you on the other side,” Terry said, patting him on the shoulder.

“Cobra Kai never dies,” he replied. 

A daughter. He had a little girl. Rebecca. He was still thinking about her and her gray eyes as he fell asleep.


	5. New Year's Eve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Terry is having a hard time letting go. Mikey isn't doing much better.  
> Co-written by Rynnsama

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Rynnsama for all the help!

It had been awkward when Becca had made them talk on the phone at Christmas. He couldn’t get it out of his head how awkward it had been. He wondered if Mikey had heard about the engagement yet, though who was he kidding, of course, he had. Becca probably couldn’t keep her mouth shut about being a flower girl at the upcoming nuptials.

So this was how it was going to be for them wasn’t it? He had always thought there had been a chance for them but Mikey had made it apparent the last time they had been together that nothing would ever happen. 

He took another sip of his drink. When they had been ‘two single men traveling the world to pick up women’ they had spent previous New Years together and for some reason Terry found himself thinking of the other on this particular eve. This was his engagement party, of course, Cori had to do something as ridiculous as taking an already big holiday party and make herself the center of attention for it. 

There had been rumors of their engagement and of course, wedding planning had already begun but this was their official announcement to the world of their deal. Terry could do worse, Cori was from an influential family and she was good looking. She could be fun when she wanted to be. So why couldn’t he enjoy tonight?

He looked down at his watch, it hadn’t hit midnight here in LA but it had already been New Years back east for a while. He couldn’t help but wonder if Mikey was having just as hard a night as he was. Finishing his drink he took his leave, excusing himself from the party. He wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or what but he realized that what he needed more than anything else was to end things with Mikey once and for all. Maybe then he could move on with his damn life.

His unwitting but reliable little spy had told him that Mikey had headed back to his own base once Cara had gotten home and settled in. He closed the door to his office, shutting out the sounds of the party in the parlor and out on the balconies. He dialed the number, not sure what he was going to say. It wasn’t like they had been in a real relationship. It wasn’t a breakup, exactly, but he still felt like it had to be something.

“Hello?” Mikey was both sleepy and annoyed by the ringing phone.

“Hey, Flyboy,” he said, barely above a whisper, everything else leaving his mind at the sound of Mikey’s voice.

“Terry? What the hell?! It’s three in the morning!”

Terry couldn’t help a laugh, “Don’t exaggerate, it’s 2:49 in the morning.”

He could practically hear the other roll his eyes on the other end of the line. 

“Terry I don’t have time for your shit, I’m on duty at 0800. How did you even know I was here?” Mikey’s voice was annoyed.

“Aren’t you on leave?” Terry was sure that was what his little spy had told him but she was known to mix things up from time to time.

He could hear Mikey yawn. “I went back early, shoot me.”

Terry closed his eyes, he loved being able to hear his voice again. The stubborn ass made avoiding him an art form. He couldn’t decide if it annoyed him or endeared him.  "What the hell kind of soldier gives up R and R early?"

“The kind who doesn’t feel much like celebrating this year,” he answered. “There’s always someone else wanting off on New Year’s Eve. Didn’t seem right to take it up for the third year in a row, especially…”

“Especially?” Terry couldn’t stop himself from prodding.

“What are you calling me for?” Mikey changed the subject.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just… it’s New Year’s Eve. I miss you.”

“You…, miss me?!” How dare he make such a confession now? It hurt that he’d say that now when he was engaged to be married. When he hadn’t even told Mikey that himself. Instead, he’d read it in a magazine and head about it from Becca’s excited chatter. But that wasn’t the worst of it. The worst was the way his heart had lifted at the words. How stupid had he been to think he could have fixed things with them after the kiss in Brissago and they could have spent this night really together? “What about your fiancée? You miss her too?”

“You heard about that?”

“Not from you.”

“It wasn’t official,” was the only pathetic excuse he could offer up.

“She’s living in your house. You’re playing Daddy to her kid, how much more official did it need to be?”

Terry paused, his whiskey addled mind putting piece together he hadn’t been paying attention to before. Mikey was angry, of course, he was, but there was something else there too. Hurt. Not being left out of the loop hurt, but there was real, raw pain showing through the bitterness in his words.

“Why do you care anyway?” He challenged.

“I guess I don’t. It’s none of my business how you want to ruin your life,” he replied.

“At least I have the courage to live a life,” Terry snapped. “I don’t push people away and hide and pretend that I’m happy.”

“Not all of us get to do whatever the hell we want all the time, Terry,” he replied.

“And what do you want, Mikey?”

“What do you want? You’re the one who can’t seem to make up his mind,” he said.

“I know what I want. I also know what I can and can’t have,” Terry shot back.

“Like there’s anything you can’t have,” Mikey scoffed.

“I can’t have you,” he answered.

Mikey gasped sharply. He’d never expected even Terry to be that direct about it. How dare he do this now? Now, when neither of them can do anything about it?! He didn’t even know how to respond if he should be angry or elated or both.

“I know what you want, too,” Terry said, somewhere between teasing and accusing. “And I know that you know what you want. But you’ll never let yourself admit it. You’ll never let yourself even feel it. You’ll just keep pushing me away, pretending you don’t have feelings, acting like you’re made of damn stone.”

“Yeah and if you had any sense, you’d do the same,” Mikey snapped.

“Come on, Flyboy,” his voice was serious now. “Admit it. Admit that you want me. Say it and I’ll stop all this marriage nonsense and we’ll be together.”

“Terry…,”

“Just say it. Say what you really want,” he almost pleaded. “What do you want, Mikey?”

“I want…, I want..,” Mikey swallowed hard. He wanted to tell Terry what he wanted to hear as badly as Terry wanted to hear it, but he just couldn’t force the word ‘you’ out of his mouth. “I…, What I want doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me,” he said softly.

They were both quiet for a long moment, both wanting the other to make a move. 

“Terry, I…,”

“Mikey, please…,”

“Terry, Baby, there you are!” A female voice interrupted them. “I’ve been looking all over for you!”

Mikey took a deep breath. “It’s midnight. Go kiss your fiancée.” He hung up before he could hear his reply. He laid his head back against his pillow and blinked back tears. He wanted to hate Terry even more now, but he couldn’t. He was hopeless, relentlessly in love with the other man. Getting out of bed, he grabbed the bottle of whisky he’d started the night with and set out to finish it. Duty in the morning or not, he knew sleep wasn’t going to return this night.

Damn Terry.


	6. Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cara falls in love for a song.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song used is ‘Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow’ by the Shirelles/ written by Carol King

One dance turned into two, then one drink into another and another. For the first time in a long time, John found himself smiling. He hadn’t really thought about any woman since Betsy had dumped him for the lawyer in Memphis, but the young nurse was smart and funny and could handle herself well. He was shocked to find that he didn’t want the night to end. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this light and well, human again.

“What you say good, Sullivan?” The private serving as bartender asked, coming over to lean against the bar in front of them. “Who is your friend?”

“Captain Kreese of the Cobra Kai unit,” she answered.

“Nice to meet you,” he replied, holding out his hand to John. “Listen, Sullivan, you know I love you, right?”

“What do you want?” She asked, narrowing her eyes.

“I’ll give you the bottle if you’ll clear out and let me close up early,” he grinned. 

“Hmmm, just how badly do you want that?” She smirked. “Seems like I could get more than a bottle of booze out of this.” 

“You’re a hard woman, you know that?” 

“If I was hard, I’d have put Lauren on ward duty tonight,” she replied.

“Get out of here already,” he laughed, tossing a bar cloth at her. 

“We’re going,” she laughed, sliding off the barstool. “You owe me a pack of cigarettes, Wesley. Good ones, not that junk they sell at the BX.”

“Got it,” he grinned again. “I owe you one, Sullivan.”

* * *

“Let’s go to the beach,” Cara said as they walked out of the officer’s club.

John looked at her, thrown off for a minute. “I thought the beach was off-limits at night.”

“It is,” she shrugged. “But no one is going to say anything to me about being there.”

“Oh yeah,” he scoffed. “And what is that?”

“I’m a Sullivan. No one will write me up without more than a little unauthorized skinny dipping to hold over my head.”

“Do they authorize skinny dipping?” he laughed.

“If you know the right person to ask,” she grinned. She grabbed his hand and tugged him in the direction of the beach. “Come on, Soldier.”

There was a cool breeze blowing across the deserted beach, a relief from unrelenting heat and humidity during the day. Cara kicked off the plimsolls shoes she was wearing and walked to where the water was washing over her ankles. She motioned to him to join her, but he shook his head. 

“What’s the matter? You can swim, can’t you?” She asked.

“Of course.” He could swim. He could actually swim very well. He couldn’t remember not being able to swim, but there was difference in swimming in a pond or a slow moving river and swimming in the ocean. 

“You aren’t scared are you?” She teased.

“No,” he answered, tensely. It wasn’t that he was scared, not exactly, the water was so dark and vast, it couldn’t possibly be safe. “Cobra Kais aren’t scared of anything. I just don’t like the ocean.”

“How can you not like the ocean?” She laughed. She walked back up on the beach, out of reach of the waves and sat down.

“Never saw one until I was flying over it to come here,” he answered, sitting down beside her. 

“Really?”

“Not many chances to see an ocean in Tennessee,” he replied.

“Where are you from in Tennessee?”

“Jones Ferry.”

“Never heard of it,” she grinned.

“You wouldn’t have. Calling it a dot on a road map is giving it too much credit,” he chuckled. “Nothing there but farms and feed mills. We were high class when we got a cafe out on the highway. Where are you from?”

“When? I told you I’m an Army brat. We were living in Kentucky when I joined up. Before that was Texas, Colorado, New York, even Italy for a while,” she answered. 

“I never went further from home than Nashville until I joined the Army. I signed the papers on Wednesday and by Friday morning was on a bus to Fort Benning, Georgia. I think they were afraid I’d change my mind if they gave me more time than that to think about it,” he smiled. “What about you?”

“Oh, signing up is how we celebrate our seventeenth birthday in my family,” she replied, moving closer to him. “No matter what we might want.”

“So, are your folks still in?” 

This was it, this was her chance to come clean and tell him her Dad was one of the big brass, but she chose the easier route, “My mother is a Major in the Corp of Nurses. My Dad’s getting close to retirement. She’ll probably retire when he does too.”

“Big shoes to fill.” He slid his arms around her shoulders, pulling her closer.

She nodded her agreement. “It’s not always so bad. It’s the lack of choice that kind of sucks.”

“So what would you have chosen? If not all this?”

She considered the question as no one had ever asked her that before. “I would have still gone to nursing school, just not in the Army. Gotten a job at some cushy stateside hospital, you know with normal 8-5 hours, at home at night, indoor showers with hot water. Real coffee.”

“What? You don’t enjoy cold outdoor showers and that brown water they call coffee here?” He laughed.

“Or, I might have just married some rich doctor and lived a life of luxury,” she replied, laying her head on his shoulder.

“It’s been my observation that you can’t stand the doctors here,” he said.

“You been watching me?”

“Well, you don’t make it hard,” he replied. “You rolled your eyes every time one came around Twig.”

“Well, the doctors here aren’t paying for my long lunches and tennis lessons,” she laughed. “Your turn. What would you be doing now, if you hadn’t joined the Army?”

“Probably have been drafted,” he shrugged. “But if I had managed to avoid that, I guess I’d still be working on my parents farm. I would have kept my job at the cafe at night, unless I got lucky enough to get a job at one of the mills, get married and keep the cycle going. That’s life there.”

“Do you have a girl back there, waiting on that marriage and kids thing?” Maybe it was too soon to ask, to assume, but she had to know.

“Not anymore.”

“What else? What would you do for fun?” She asked, sensing it was a sore topic.

“What’s that?” He joked.

“You can’t work all the time,” she answered. 

“Music.”

“Music? What do you mean?”

He smiled, thinking about it. “My little brother, our cousin, and I had a band. We used to play at school dances and parties and stuff. Occasionally we’d drive out to Nashville and play in a bar there. We weren’t going to get rich or anything. We considered ourselves lucky to get paid enough to cover a meal, but it was fun.”

“Music is all that keeps me sane over here,” she admitted. “A few months ago, a shell hit my tent. I think I was more upset about my record player being destroyed than my tent. What did you play?”

“Whatever we could play and all stay on the same rhythm ,” he laughed.

“Give me a real answer. What was the one song that always managed to make it onto your line up, no matter where you were playing?” 

“Um…, Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow,” he mumbled.

“What?”

“Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow.”

“Oh, now you have to sing some,” she grinned.

“No.”

“Scared?” She teased.

“I told you Cobra Kais aren’t scared of anything,” he replied.

“Then prove it,” she teased. “Sing.”

He sighed. He hadn’t sang since the weekend before he’d left for basic training years before. He wasn’t sure he even still could.

_ “Tonight you’re mine, completely _

_ You give your love so sweetly _

_ Tonight, the light of love is in your eyes, _

_ But will you still love me tomorrow” _

“I think you gave up the wrong job,” she said, mesmerized. 

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah,” she replied, leaning in to kiss him. “You’re definitely in the wrong line of work.”

  
  
  



End file.
